


Lost Time

by yourpricelessadvice



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (Temporarily), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Business Trip, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Established Relationship, Fluff, Graphic Description, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Nicknames, Oral Sex, POV Harry, Phone Sex, Soppy Boyfriends, Trains, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6980998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourpricelessadvice/pseuds/yourpricelessadvice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the Sunday night before Harry has to go away for three nights on business. Louis gives him something to remember him by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Time

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you like this. At one point I thought about trying Porn With Plot but my smut is nowhere near good enough for that so its this fluff-fest instead. I'm chuffed with how it turned out, I hope you like it and please let me know if you did.
> 
> Obviously, DISCLAIMER, this is fiction and not representative of any of the characters named. OC's are my creation and entirely random. No Niall or Liam in this because it just didn't fit but they're implied when friends are mentioned.
> 
> Please enjoy! Thank you for reading!

  
_**Sunday** _

 

They fuck on the very edge of the bed. Louis lies diagonally across the bed under him as Harry fucks into him. He tucks one hand around the back of Louis' knee while the man beneath him props the other one up himself on the bed headboard.

"Fuck... yeah... uh, I, I..." Louis murmurs to himself over and over, voice hitching with every inward thrust Harry makes.

Louis reaches up blindly trying to grab at Harry as he continues to work his cock in and out, his fingers catching nothing more than slips of red hot skin that tickles more than anything.

"Love, you're.... that tickles." He manages to utter.

"Sorry." Louis withdraws his hand and reaches above his head to pull at the wrinkled bed sheets.

He shudders and gapes at the mouth like a crazy fish as Harry continues. "Yeah, babe. Don't stop, don't... stop..."

"Lou, I want you to ride me." Harry says, drawing back his hips but withholding the snap back down into Louis.

"Yeah 'kay." Louis says breathlessly, and Harry pulls his last inch or two out.

Louis stammers out a groan as he's left empty, but he scrambles around under Harry regardless as they switch positions on one another.

Louis slings his leg over so he is straddling him and with Harry propped up on the pillows their torsos are millimetres apart. He slides both hands into his curls so Harry takes it upon himself to guide his length back into his boyfriend. Louis' grip around his chestnut tresses tightens as Harry nudges past his slack but still impossibly tight hole.

He tugs even tighter on the downy, twisted hairs at the base of his neck as he bottoms out again. "Ride my cock," Harry murmurs, lifting his chin against the firm pull of Louis' hands.

Obligingly, Louis tucks his toes under Harry's thighs for leverage and with a firm final pull he drags his hands out of Harry's hair. He presses his palms strongly into Harry's shoulders and uses his body to get his own rhythm.

They're silent then as Louis pulses up and down in Harry's lap. Louis' hands remain clamped down on Harry's shoulders as he rocks back and forth on him, and Harry's caress his hips. Every few turns, Louis leans back a degree and moans gutturally as the angle of Harry's cock shifts. Louis tips his head back and moans up to the ceiling as he rides Harry, before looking back down. They maintain close eye contact, following and mirroring each others movements as Louis continues to bounce.

Louis inches forward slightly and pushes down his chest; his spine curves and he picks up the pace of his ride. Harry slumps down the bed as Louis bears down on him so they're almost horizontal. Harry takes this opportunity to ghost his lips over Louis' chest and collar bones.

He is too breathless and mind blown to even think about suckling a love bite into the tan flesh, but his warm breath and soft lips must give Louis something because he whimpers and grips tighter on his shoulders.

"Come, baby." Harry utters against Louis' chest, feeling around the confined space between their torsos for Louis' achingly hard cock.

"Ughh, yeah I'm close..." Louis utters, hoarse and scratchy as Harry's hand closes around his cock and he begins to toss languidly.

"Me too, gonna come soon." He whispers as he continues to handle Louis. Together they work each others lengths over, breaths increasing together until they're both muttering nonsense noises against each others lips.

"Y-yeah, this is... uhhh!" Louis is the first to go, firing off scorching streams of come between their bodies, both too spent and euphoric to mind the squelch or the smear.

"Yes baby..." Harry utters, taking over as Louis shudders through his orgasm. He lifts his hips in little bursts off the mattress and fucks into his helpless, whimpering boyfriend until he is coming too; he shoots ribbons into Louis, panting and gasping for air until Louis collapses onto him and they lay, the smaller man still impaled atop him.

"I'm gonna miss you so much this week." Louis is the first to speak after a protracted silence whilst breath is caught and appendages soften.

"Me too, baby. But it's only three nights and four days, we can do it."

"Urgh, don't put it in such bold terms!" Louis whines, burying his head deeper into the space between Harry's shoulder and the pillows.

"That's enough of your howling, Tomlinson." Harry says, pulling Louis up by his shoulders. "C'mon, I'm very, very _not_ hard anymore."

Louis nods sagely and lifts himself off Harry. He is indeed very soft now and he slips out easily. With an almost silent laugh, Louis disappears out the door to the bathroom.

Harry hasn't moved by the time Louis comes back. The alarm clock on the side says ten past eleven. Louis smirks at him starfishing naked in the middle of the bed. Harry explains, "I'm dead, you've killed me!"

"Dramatic," Louis sighs as he pulls a beige Henley over his head and steps into his boxers. Once dressed, Louis drops to his knees on the edge of the bed and crawls over to him, tucks himself in long the contours of the right side of his naked body and throws an arm over his tummy. He tucks his fingers under his side; his warm skin clammy and tingling under Louis' touch.

"I don't want you to go, can't you bin it off?"

"No, not at this short notice. Besides, we need to learn to function separately, not be so co-dependent all the time." Harry says robotically as if reading from a script. Actually, he doesn't want to learn how to function without Louis again because that's not how his life should be. Under any other circumstances they wouldn't be doing that.

"Boo, rubbish." Louis sighs, a gaggle of goosebumps dashing across Harry's skin as Louis' breath flutters across his bare chest.

"Lemme up, Lou, my back's starting to seize up and I'm disgusting."

"True." Louis deadpans, rolling off Harry onto his side. Harry watches him out of the corner of his eye but he stays curled up on his side in the foetal position so he focusses on hauling himself up off the bed. He tiptoes carefully to the bathroom, hoping nothing drips from him onto the carpet.

When he climbs back into bed, wrapping his bare body around Louis, he feels as they press against each other that Louis' taken off his boxers; the plump, cushiony swell of his bare bum pressing against his own crotch.

"Night, love." They say in unison.

 

_**Monday** _

 

The next thing Harry knows, it's 07:45 and the alarm is going off. At some point during the night, Louis must've rolled over and tucked his hand underneath Harry's head because he can feel a lump where he should be feeling soft pillow. Slowly he reaches up for Louis' fingers and frees the digits from his mass of bedhead curls. Curls that are more like frizzy waves right now.

Louis sleeps right through the alarm and the disturbance; he's always been the heavier sleeper since the first time they'd spent the night together after their third date.

Harry stares bleary eyed at the horrible, stark red LED's shining back at him. He decides to leave Louis be for a moment; he's not a morning person _at all_. He heaves himself creakily off the bed and staggers towards the door. His limbs aren't awake yet and he still feels sated and wobbly from sex.

Louis' arm shoots out across the empty mattress next to him and he utters something sleepy and illegible but he doesn't wake properly. Rolling his eyes warmly, Harry steps into some boxers and staggers to the kitchen.

He wakes Louis with two slices of jam on toast and a strong tea, one sugar. He throws t-shirts and jeans and his aftershave into a rucksack as Louis sits propped up on all the pillows spraying crumbs over the duvet.

They'd told him next to nothing about the dress code for the trip so he just assumes he should go smart-casual, which for Harry entails black skinny jeans as standard, with some form of t-shirt and thin knit jumper combo.

He watches Louis, bemused, as he pulls back the covers and sits with his trackies poised to step into. "Stop judging me!" Louis says solemnly, not looking up.

Snorting softly out of his nose, he smiles and returns to selecting a jumper. He could go black on white or white on black, grey on black or maybe even burgundy on white?

Louis pads around the room behind him, but Harry doesn't really pay him much attention. His mind travels to the week ahead of him and what delights await him.

"Have we got ten minutes?" Louis voice interrupts his train of thought. He sounds perkier than he did a moment ago.

"Yeah, about that. Why?" He replies slowly, not looking back at Louis.

"I wanna suck your cock." He says, plainly and shamelessly. Harry chokes on his own gasp and spins around in time to see Louis wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Can I?"

"Babe, we're gonna be-"

"You said we have ten minutes!" Louis springs off the bed and skips towards him, looking rather sleep deprived and casual in his dark blue t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, hair pushed back with Harry's red elastic headband. The ends curls around his ears and it's impossible to say no to him. Clamping his hands down firmly on Harry's shoulders and rising up onto his tiptoes, he asks, "Let me?"

"Okay..." Harry sighs animatedly. Louis' hands are already sliding down his naked torso, a little bit of force behind his palms guiding him back towards the bed. Checking over his shoulder for an errant shoe or a misplaced pile of washing, Harry steps back in tandem with Louis until the backs of his legs hit the bed.

"Like it's such a hardship!" Louis mutters himself as he undoes Harry's jeans. Once the clasp is unfastened, Louis pushes him back and he collapses rather unceremoniously onto the bed. With his jeans and boxers around his ankles, his cock springs free. "Speaking of hard..."

Harry rolls his eyes bashfully as Louis drops to his knees between Harry's legs and wraps a loose palm around his already burgeoning length.

"I can't believe you're leavin' me for four whole days..." Louis says quietly to Harry's crotch as he licks a teasing stripe up one side.

"Are you talkin' to my cock? " Harry asks, his breath hitching as Louis makes contact.

"Uh huh." Louis hums as he closes his mouth over the tip and sinks down until Harry hits the back of his throat. The drawn out vibration of the noise reverberates through Harry and he bucks his hips unintentionally.

Louis smoothes his hands over Harry's thighs to calm him and travels back up his cock, massaging his finger tips into the fleshy innards of Harry's thigh.

It blows Harry away - figuratively and literally - Louis' technique. His mouth clamps down like a vice around his cock; sliding up and down rhythmically with a devilish flick of the tongue around the head each time he draws back up.

“Lou, that's... you're, Urgh!" Harry can't form sentences as Louis continues to mouth at him, alternating between licking intricate patterns with the tip of his tongue and sinking right down to the back of his throat. He props himself up on his elbows for a moment to watch but quickly sinks back down into the mattress. "So big," Louis says, opening his mouth briefly at the top before swallowing him down again. He groans softly as he goes and Harry can feel that feeling building up. "So beautiful."

"I'm gonna come," Harry warns with a sharp intake of air, and after two more sucks he's arching off the bed with a stuttering gasp as he shoots down the back of Louis' throat. Louis continues to rock his head back and forth and groan theatrically as if he is enjoying the most delicious meal.

When he pulls off his eyes are glazed and hooded and his lips shimmer until he wipes at them with the back of his hand.

"Alright?" Louis asks with a satisfied smirk, heaving himself backwards off the bed leaving Harry sated and heavy-breathing on the bed.

Harry just nods, still apparently unable to form sentences.

"C'mon, it's ten to nine, better get you to the train station. Get dressed. Again."

 

*

 

The train is due at platform 2 at 09:32. It’s 09:26 when they arrive on the platform, their detour into Costa setting them back a good ten minutes. On the other hand, there isn’t much time to hang about lingering on the fact that they’re about to be separated, which Harry is grateful for because Louis has a face on like someone kidnapped his budgie and after the initial hilarity of the older man’s pout, he’s starting to feel bad.

“Well, don’t have too much fun.” Louis says with a sigh, looking out at the empty track. Harry rolls his eyes and sets his Costa caramel latte down on the ledge they're standing in front of.

“It’s IT training, I don’t think those things are ever fun.”

“Just don’t forget me.”

“It’s three days, Lou, not three years. Besides, how could I ever forget this beautiful face?” Harry tucks his forefinger under Louis’ chin and smoothes the pad of his thumb over his jaw. He presses a buttery soft kiss against Louis' temple. He is lightly teasing, but his boyfriend _is_ beautiful nonetheless.

“Shut up, you’re just humouring me.”

“Don’t pout, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Yes it does, you love my smouldering, pouty face!”

Louis is joking too but Harry in fact _does_ love Louis when he gets all jealous and pouty and narrow-eyed. “That’s true.”

“How long is the journey? Will you text me when you get there?”

“About an hour, I think, and yes. I will text you when I get there.”

“Thank you.” Louis says flatly, and they stand in silence for another few moments. An express train goes hurtling through the station, not stopping, and Harry watches fondly as Louis flinches and winces at the racket. Instinctively, he reaches out and wraps an arm around Louis’ neck, pulling him in close.

As Louis presses against him he wraps the other arm around his shoulder and cocoons him in tightly, figuring it’s what the other man needs. He must be right, as when they separate Louis is obviously biting down on the inside of his cheek trying to suppress his grin.

“I think I hear the train.” Harry says. Louis' eyes flicker past him and he nods a fraction. He readjusts the grey beanie he insists on wearing even though, 1) It’s June and not cold in the slightest, and 2) doesn't really match the short sleeved t-shirt he is sporting.

“Mmmm, me too.” Louis agrees sadly. Harry pulls Louis back in close and nudges up his chin with his finger. Their lips meet as Louis cranes his neck up and Harry bows his slightly.

“You taste like sugar.” Harry mumbles against Louis’ lips.

“I had some sweets in the car.” Louis admits, shifting his glance away from Harry as if he fears reprimand. Harry knows Louis keeps an endless supply of sweets in the glove compartment of the car, and he noticed Louis chewing as he waited on the road for him to come out.

“I’m not gonna tell you off,” Harry chuckles as Louis’ eyes train back onto him. “Let you off this once.”

“You’d better.” Louis says before promptly pressing another soft, closed-mouth kiss to his lips.

 

*

 

Harry settles in a twin seat, settling his back between his ankles. He fiddles with the Velcro on the chair in front of him until they depart; glad that Louis hadn't waited on the platform for him. He takes out his phone and unlocks it. He stares hopelessly at his background picture of the two of them until the screen dims. He tells himself he doesn’t miss Louis yet, it’s only been twenty minutes, don’t be ridiculous. Maybe one text wouldn't hurt?

_‘Have a lovely day at work baby, don’t miss me too much. Xx’_

He’s not surprised to not get a reply. Louis is probably still driving, stuck in the leftover rush hour traffic. Either that or pouting. Pouting and driving, probably.

The train journey isn’t too strenuous; he has his tablet, a steady Wi-Fi connection, and his latte. He reads over the information pack attached to the email from the company once more, feigning interest, before he taps his way over to his emails, then to Facebook – ninety percent rubbish – and then Sky Sports News. In the early days, he’d browse to let Louis know what the latest happenings were, and take an interest in his interests, but it had become habit over the years and now he actually cared what was happening in obscure golf tournaments and with the Portuguese women’s basketball team.

Harry isn’t quite sure what happened somewhere along the line that he’d ended up as the junior team leader for an IT software company instead of a rock star or sporting hero or radio personality, but he did like his job and the mundane everyday with Louis and their flat and their car and their friends and the occasional holiday is more than well worth the sacrifice.

He’s not quite sure, either, why the training is in a sleepy little village just outside Dorset, but apparently it is. The sun breaks through the cloud as they leave the built up area and by the time the driver announces over the Tannoy that they are approaching Harry’s stop, it’s quite warm against the grimy window pane.

As he’s only got one bag he makes it off the train in record time. The station is much smaller than the one he had departed from; hanging baskets full of unidentifiable purple flowers line the single platform and he can see the main road through a white painted archway. As he wanders through, he passes by a row of seven some cars, and across the main road he can see the sea.

The air is clear and fresh and seagulls squawk overhead. A pokey sign pinned to the lamppost points him in the direction of the town centre. He figures it can’t be far, given the size of the train station in relation to the size of the town. It seems like a typical English seaside town, and he ambles casually along the footpath running alongside the seafront. The pebbly beach beneath stretches on for miles and a small, unassuming pier juts out in the distance.

He passes an ice cream van and a doughnuts and hot sauce cart that smells divine but he just can’t justify that kind of snacking before midday. As predicted, it’s not long until the path begins to slope away to a grassy knoll and he has to cross over. Another rubbishy old sign points him towards the town.

It’s a pretty sizable town square; he is surprised. It’s furnished with the standard bank, post office and pub, and then nice little extras including Greggs, Superdrug and Animal, amongst others. He sees a sign for ‘Wardley Street’ and he recognises that as the street his hotel is on. Noting that, he heads into Greggs for another latte; he’ll be vibrating later but that’s a problem for Future Harry.

It continues to get hotter as he perches against a dried up old water fountain sipping his drink and tapping his foot. Suddenly remembering his promise to text Louis, he pulls out his phone and does so accordingly. This time, Louis responds almost immediately and scolds him for taking so long to text.

The narrow side street the hotel is up is shadowy and chilly, but once he’s checked into his rear-facing room, the sun beats down through the window again and he can see the sea between the buildings. He’s happy. He scans the room and gives Louis a play-by-play of each corner of the room, so he can imagine it as if he was there too. He helps himself to a complimentary pack of two Bourbon cream biscuits before throwing himself down on the bed.

It’s a lot softer than the orthopaedic mattress they have at home, and Harry predicts trouble ahead of him tonight, but again that’s a problem for Future Harry. Checking the time, he’s got two hours before he needs to wander down to the lobby to ask for directions on how to find the welcome session is being held. He kicks off his scuffed old boots across the room and brings his legs up, digging his heels into the bed and lifting his bum off the bed.

His spine burns as he curves it and sticks out his belly. Normally, he’d swing off the top of the door frame or get Louis to pull down on him as he stretches against the resistance, but this will have to do. Rolling onto his belly, he amuses himself for at least twenty minutes with Candy Crush and Minion Rush and Subway Surfers before hauling himself off the bed and into his smarter boots.

With a vague map scribbled on the bottom of a pamphlet for Monkey World, he heads out again, desperate to get out of the shade and back into the warm sun. He thinks of Louis again as he passes by Greggs and sees yum yums in the window; both his favourite treat, and an accurate term to describe his boyfriend. He thinks about Louis again when he meanders vacantly around Superdrug looking at the aftershave and shampoos. A new low for Harry might just be standing in the middle of the aisle sniffing the Original Source mint shower gel.

When it’s finally time to head towards the training, he feels a bit nervous; wishes maybe he’d dressed a bit smarter. With his unruly hair and skinny jeans and young age of just twenty six, he perhaps doesn’t look like a managerial figure at an IT software company, even if he is just a junior.

The whole reception is air conditioned to within an inch of its life and leafy potted palms rattle in the artificial breeze. The meeting room is not much better and the falsely cold air burns his nostrils as he sits and listens as the man – Derek, or something – prattles on. The monotony of the PowerPoint presentation mixed with the dim of the lights in the room almost sends Harry to sleep, so he is glad he isn’t in the front row. And, he was right. There doesn't look to be anyone else here of a smiliar age, and certainly there is not another denim clad leg in sight.

Perhaps a little petulantly, he ditches having to talk to anyone after in favour of returning to his hotel room. It’s now getting on for 7pm and Domino’s pizza is calling him. Bourbon creams, two lattes and three teas and one half of a cheese sandwich isn't enough, and nothing like normal.

As he sits in the middle of the bed later on with a large Ranch BBQ before him, he takes a picture and sends it to Louis on snapchat.

The Wi-Fi signal from the lobby is too precarious for FaceTime so Harry resorts to a good old fashioned phone call in the end. They talk until half ten, Louis goading Harry with sad stories of how he is having to fend for himself in their flat for the first time, and he isn’t coping well and he can’t operate the microwave. Harry knows this to be untrue.

“Lou, I know you’re just being dramatic.”

“Am not!” Louis pouts, and is silent for a moment. Harry listens as a Louis clanks around their kitchen, obviously being loud for effect. He can picture him in their kitchen and he almost finds himself reaching out to touch Louis because it feels so tangible in his mind. “It’s alright for you, you've had your Dominos! Look, I’ve gotta go, I can’t do this one-handed.”

“What are you doing?”

“Making pasta.”

“At half ten at night? You’ll be up all night with indigestion, love.”

“Hmm, well it's this or starve to death, so I’ll take my chances.”

They round off their conversation, both reluctantly, and Harry sinks back down onto the bed. The unfamiliar pillows and mattress do not bode well with his bad back and he sighs loudly, dejected. There’s nothing to do now. The TV is unappealing, the Wi-Fi is obviously a no-go, and he doesn’t have a certain golden haired young man to keep him entertained.

He’s just drifting off to a fitful sleep forty five minutes later when his phone vibrates on his chest.

_‘I miss you, I love you x’_

He smiles fondly at his phone for much longer than necessary; it’s only been less than one day for God’s sake. Before they’d lived together, they’d do this every night before sleep. Nostalgically, he types out his identical response and leans across the bed to flick the switch on the charger.

_‘I miss you, I love you x’_

 

_**Tuesday** _

 

Four and a half slices of pizza remain in the box on the desk, stinking the place out even with a window open. With no microwave to warm them up, Harry is forced to eat it cold, firm base and solid cheese included.

Unlike yesterday when he had the luxury of just three fun-filled hours training, today is an all-day thing - namely 10am until 4pm. Having only woken up at twenty past nine, Harry has to fly around the room shucking off his socks and t-shirt so he can jump in the shower, leftover pizza clenched between his teeth strategically.

He makes it by the skin of his unbrushed teeth with one minute to spare; without the chance to collate his thoughts or text Louis.

He manages to get in a brief message while the computers are loading. They're ancient animals from the year minus, and by the time the Windows start up jingle has jingled around the room, it's way past ten.

 

*

 

“It’s lovely here, Lou. We should come here for a long weekend or something.” Harry says into his phone. He's made it to the end of his first full day and the training he'd spent all day doing is the furthest thing from his mind as he pines after the aqua waters and sunny skies he'd been looking at from the window all day.

“Hmmm, maybe.” Louis replies curtly, and Harry rolls his eyes. Typical Louis still sulking.

“Lou, stop sulking.” He says, and Louis’ end of the call bustles as he presumably turns over in bed. “It’s already Tuesday, Thursday morning I’ll be home.”

“Yes, when I’m at work and won’t get to see you.” Louis drones on. “It’s like a whole extra day. You may as well just make a week of it, to be honest H.”

“Louis, stop being ridiculous.” Harry says, polite still.

As they sit in contemplative silence, an idea runs across Harry’s subconscious. Normally he wouldn't entertain such ideas, but he thinks - he knows it will cheer Louis up and make him less insufferable, so he’s willing.

"Lou..." He begins, softening his voice. "Tell me what you'd do if we were at home now."

" _Harry!_ " Louis gasps theatrically. "Are you implying what I think you're implying?"

"Yeah," Harry says quickly, only cringing a little bit at his attempts to be sexy. "Tell me?"

"Harry, you filthy boy! What happened to your innocence?" Louis remarks down the phone.

"C'mon, Lou, I know you wanna."

Louis is quite for a moment and then he exhales as if he'd had his breath held. "Well, where are we? In bed or in the shower?"

"In bed," Harry says definitely. "Shower sex is very nice but I prefer it when we can take our time properly."

Louis doesn't respond to that directly but Harry thinks he hears his breath hitch again.

"If you were here next to me right now, in our bed, I'd kiss you. I would never _not_ kiss you if I had the chance."

"Kiss me where?"

"Everywhere, " Louis says without hesitation. There's a gravelly, sleepy pull to his voice. "Start off on those soft, pink lips. Slip you my tongue, feel how warm your mouth is."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Then I'd get you out of your t-shirt and kiss all the way down your neck and across your chest. Might invite those little pink nipples of yours to the party too."

Harry can't find it in himself to laugh; his desire, and probably adrenaline, is suddenly the only thing fuelling him. "Are we gonna fuck?"

"Definitely." Louis answers quickly. "You wanna fuck me or you wanna ride?"

"I wanna fuck you. So bad."

"Right, well... you're gonna open me up on those lovely long fingers and I'm gonna take it so well for you." Louis continues, each word clipped, curt and breathless. In Harry's mind, Louis is sprawled out in the middle of their king size bed at home with one hand wrapped confidently around himself and his mobile in the other: their lemon yellow duvet cover and Louis' olive gold skin always the most perfect combination.

"Mmm..." Harry encourages him, words unreachable. He's got his own cock out now; it springs free as he tugs at his boxers. He's well on the way to fully hard and it won't take long the rate Louis is going at.

"Like that? When I talk about how well I take your cock and your fingers? Y'like that baby?"

"Yesss...." Harry practically purrs, picking himself up between his thumb and his index finger and jerking lazily. "More, Lou."

"You work me up to three slick fingers, pushing in and out of me 'til I'm screaming for you. Beggin' for your cock."

"You like to beg." Harry says, unsure if he had intended it to be a question or a statement.

"I'll beg if you want me to, babe." Louis says.

By now, Harry has worked himself up to fully hard and a languid, two digit stroke isn't enough. "I'm so hard, Lou."

"You got that beautiful cock in your hand, babe?"

"Uh huh," Harry confirms, holding his ragged breath as he gives himself two tosses. "Touching m'self right now."

"You wish I was there to do it, yeah?" Louis asks, and that's the truest thing Harry had heard all day.

"Yeah. God, Lou I'm never leaving you again after this."

"You wanna hear how I'd take your cock?"

"Yeah, t-tell me babe." Harry is almost whimpering. The sounds of Louis using the word 'cock' so repeatedly is sending rapid gushes of warmth and tingles straight to his groin.

"Once I'm ready, I'd whisper into your ear to tell you that. Then I'd get you on top of me and wrap my legs around you, look you in the eye as you push into me so slowly."

"I'd fuck you so good if you were here, baby."

"I know, babe, I know."

"You touchin' yourself?"

"Yeah," Louis confirms, pausing again and a rustling on the line confirms it. "God, Harry I wish you were really here. I can feel you slipping into me inch by inch, God it feels so real."

"Thursday and we'll be doing this for real." Harry manages to utter. "Tell me how I fuck you. How I make you feel."

"Full." Louis says immediately. "So full and so perfect. I feel so good when you're inside me, babe."

"I wanna make you feel good all the time."

"You do," Louis insists breathlessly. His voice lilts and Harry can sense every jerks of Louis' hand in his voice. "You make me feel so good and you fuck me so good too."

"Tell me how I'd fuck you now."

"You snap your hips just like I like when you're pushing back in, you bring yourself almost all the way back then fuck back into me so hard, give it to me like you're trying to make me forget my name."

"Yeah, I love that feeling."

"Hmmm, every solid inch of you cock fucks into me and works me into a mess...I love it. So hard, so fucking good."

"Lou, I think I'm gonna come." Harry utters into the phone, gripping himself tightly with his spare hand.

"Yeah, come for me baby, I'm so close too. I wish I could see that face of yours."

Louis stops talking then and Harry listens as his shortened breaths quicken and the occasional whimpering escapes from his lips.

He tugs firmly on his own cock, feeling his orgasm building inside him as he listens to Louis.

"I'm coming." Louis chokes down the phone. He sounds distant and pained but in the best way. Harry breathes heavily down the line himself as his vision blurs and he sees shapes and coloured splodges everywhere as he comes too.

He spurts three bands up onto his stomach and one smaller one that trickles down his palm that is still wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock. Paralysed by his orgasm and the echo of Louis' own laboured breathing in his ear, he drops the phone onto the mattress and lies there. Covered in his own deposits, he waits for his quickened breaths to return to normal. When he picks the phone back up several moments later, Louis doesn't sound much better off on the other end.

“Wow…” Louis is the first to speak. “I haven’t wanked that furiously since I was fifteen!”

Harry lets out an uncontrollable laugh. Even after more than six years together, Louis never fails to surprise him. “Your mouth is a sewer, Lou.”

“You love it.” Louis says back quickly, easily.

Harry hums a non-committal agreement, though of course he does love it. He loves every fibre and every pore on Louis’ body.

“I miss you, I love you.”

“I miss you, I love you.” Louis says back.

 

_**Wednesday** _

 

They’re finished for the day by 3pm, and Harry is glad. The room is stuffy and the computer is slow but he’s locked down pretty much all he needs to know now and he feels confident to go back to work and get going.

The pebbly beach slopes down sharply about halfway to the shoreline, and Harry settles there, the stones on the surface sliding and tumbling down as he hauls his body down. It’s uncomfortable and the wind is stronger here. He draws his knees up and wraps his arms around his legs, cuddling them tightly. His chocolate brown suede bomber jacket normally never fails him, but right here in this moment he feels cold.

Forlornly, he pulls out his phone, switches on his 4G despite his better judgement, and FaceTime's Louis. With his phone in his hand propped up on his knee, he paints a sorry figure in the tiny viewer window. As he waits, hopes, that Louis will connect, he sighs and wonders when he got so pathetic?

“Hello happy!” Louis exclaims as he appears in pixel form on the screen. “An’ people say _I’m_ the pouter! What’s up with you love?”

“Miss you.” Harry says softly. He knows the wind howling around him is probably making for a very difficult phone call.

“Miss you too love, are you on the beach?”

“Yeah,” Harry pans around behind him and to the side so Louis can see the pebbles and the water. “It’s cold though.”

“Typical England!” Louis sighs. He’s home; Harry can see the glossy white of their kitchen cupboard doors and the grey wall tiles. "How was your thing?"

"Mmmm, boring. I got it down yesterday, today was just a re-hash of yesterday, really."

"My clever man." Louis smiles and Harry watches the blur of the ceiling lights as Louis hoiks himself up on to the kitchen countertop.

"How was work?" He asks as Louis comes back into focus. He's wearing his pale blue shirt, so light its almost white.

"Same old, same old. I thought you’d be at your thing til forever.” Louis says, most articulately.

Wordlessly, he shakes his head. He watches as Louis’ background becomes distorted and he props his phone up on the window sill as he stands at the counter. “Are you making tea? Make me one, love.”

He watches Louis chuckle softly to himself and move briefly out of shot to get a mug from the cupboard in the corner over the microwave. He reappears with two mugs, his own Doncaster Rover's one and Harry's 'I Love Coffee' one. He holds it up to the camera, "Ready for you getting home tomorrow."

"Am I pathetic?" Harry asks. He waits as Louis puts down the spoon in his mug.

"Is that a trick question?" He says eventually. "What happens if I say yes?"

"I'd probably agree with you. I can't wait for this to be over."

"Like you say, its only the rest of tonight and some of tomorrow then you'll be on your way back home to me."

Louis sounds like Harry with that spiel and he finds himself rolling his eyes with a fond smile. "You sound like me. I do talk some shit, don't I?"

"Yeah," Louis answers immediately before tipping his head back and cackling. The kettle is screaming in the background at this point and Harry can imagine it rocking and jumping on it base like it always does. "Look, you'd better go if your using your data, call me or something later. Go and do something - and get a smile on that pretty face!"

 

*

 

The heat continues to stifle him even inside the hotel bar. His half pint of beer is pretty pathetic under the awkward yellow lights, and if there ever was a time when he felt more miserable than he does now, he can’t remember it. His drink is starting to warm due to his tightly clasped palm around the glass, and the bubbles and froth have long since melted away.

He'd heeded Louis' advice - with as much enthusiasm as a diabetic at a cake eating contest - and headed to the hotel bar area instead of his room. The half a pint he'd reluctantly ordered almost half an hour ago was nowhere near even half drunk and as it's now warm he doesn't feel much like finishing it.

He wonders whether he could text Louis already. It's only been... three hours since they FaceTimed, he should perhaps give the lad some breathing space. He thinks about him all tiny curled up in the corner of their giant leather corner sofa, legs tucked underneath him with the remote control on his knee, his tea on the arm (mug rings are pressed into the leather he does it that much) and a 'share size' bag of either chilli heatwave Doritos or cheddar and onion Walkers Sensations open at his side as he watches any and all sports that are on.

“Hi?” A small, distinctly female voice pipes up next to him, distracting him from thinking about what Louis might be doing that second. Looking up, the woman smiling back at him is vaguely familiar, but he can’t quite place her. “You’re Harry aren’t you?”

His eyes scan the room in panic before settling back on her. “Uh, yeah… Harry.”

She gives a soft giggle and invites herself to sit down on the bar stool next to him. He can smell her perfume, smells like one his sister used to wear – or maybe it was his mum? Her hair is blonde and a long, straggly braid hangs messily over her shoulder. Coughing to clear his throat, he blinks back at her and remembers she was at the training. He can’t, however, remember her name.

“I’m Ellie, I hope you don’t mind me coming over but I remembered you from the training earlier and I saw you here alone so I thought, I’m alone too, may as well… y’know?”

He nods slowly, wondering what part of him gave the impression he was a good person to approach for company. “Sure, I’m rubbish company though!”

She laughs again and the barman appears, as if by magic, to take her drink order. Harry listens as she orders a small rosé and lemonade, and sits oblivious for a fair few seconds while both Ellie and the barman stare at him. “Sorry?”

“Can I get you another drink, sir?” The barman asks with a discrete sigh, obviously narked at having to repeat himself.

“Oh, uh…” He doesn’t really want another drink but on the other hand he could drown his sorrows and feel a bit better. “Uh, yeah same again, please?”

He doesn’t argue when the barman pulls him a pint, and he politely hands over a tenner to pay for both drinks. Ellie profusely thanks him and crosses one leg over the other. She’s now facing him, sort of, and his palms begin to get clammy.

“So!” He exclaims, perhaps a little enthusiastically. “That training, I mean, I can see why it’s such a struggle to convince anyone to go.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty grim but this place is lovely. So nice to get out of London at least for a while.”

“Yeah it is nice here. Wouldn’t mind coming back again under less professional circumstances.”

Ellie smiles into her glass as she sips and Harry continues to sit there oblivious. He wonders what Louis might be doing and considers getting out his phone when Ellie touches his thigh. Her touch is gentle and soft but he jumps at the unexpected contact.

“Do you want to get dinner? The night is still young.” She’s finished her wine already and is looking back at him expectantly. Suddenly, he can’t remember where he is or what time it is or even what day it is. The seconds between her speaking and him answering feel like a lifetime as he panics. _What the hell is this?_

“Dinner?” He chokes out. “Like food?”

Ellie throws back her head and bears pearly white teeth as she laughs. “Yes, dinner! If you haven’t eaten already?”

“No, I haven’t…” he says slowly, and though he hadn’t meant it as an acceptance, Ellie takes it that way and jumps off the stool again, unwrapping her black leather jacket that is draped over the back.

“Perfect, there’s this lovely restaurant that’s only about a two minute walk up the street, is that okay? Up for a walk?”

He nods blindly as she leads the way through the small bar towards the double doors. Outside on the street, its chilly and shadowy as usual, but once they step into the town square the dwindling late evening sunshine is still warm in the air but it’s definitely jacket weather.

The restaurant Ellie leads him to is nice. It’s dimly lit and the tiled floor shines. The décor is rustic and warm and at the table they’re seated at in the window, he can see out over the square. The sun is just hitting the windows in the shops along one side of the street, causing a dazzling display of sharp orange light.

Ellie is nice enough, he supposes it’s good to make a friend, though it might've been better to make a friend at the start of the trip not the end. The dinner time rush is obviously over because the waiter is at their table taking their drinks order in seconds.

Ellie tells him all about her job, fiddling with the straw in her strawberry and lime Kopparberg the entire time. He’s not sure how much she’d had to drink beforehand but her cheeks are flushed pink and she keeps making yelping, confused little noises when she realises she’s been nattering too long.

“What do you do then, you said you were a manager at a firm?”

 _Well, that sounds a bit posh._ “Well, not really, sort of. I mean, I’m the junior team leader for the company that created the software.”

“Oh, so you’re on the other side of the coin. Now I know who to blame for all the times the system goes down in the office! If you ever feel a stabbing pain in your back you’ll know it’s me and my colleagues with a voodoo doll of you!”

“I’m not responsible for the manufacture, just the running!” He laughs, holding up his hand. He wonders how long it will be until his grilled chicken salad arrives.

“I’ve never met a team leader so… young!” Ellie confesses, looking as if she was trying to find a better word, a more diplomatic approach, but ultimately failed. “How did that happen?”

“I dunno, I just… it just sorta happened?”

“How old _are_ you?”

“Twenty six.” He answers honestly and her eyes bulge. Nervously, through a laugh he asks, “What?”

“I’m thirty one. Didn’t realise I had a toy boy!”

Then, a lot happens at once. Harry begins to panic again as he feels her foot underneath the table slot between his. With an awkward cough he shifts his legs and grabs for his Coke. “Um… so-”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She retracts her foot and shifts awkwardly in her chair. Her cheeks are now bright pink. “I guess you have a girlfriend?”

Harry looks back at Ellie, her deep dusky cheeks and tucked in lower lip portraying her embarrassment very well. Suddenly, he finds himself struggling to suppress a giggle.

“Oh my God, look you don’t have to…” Ellie doesn’t finish her sentence but begins scooping her bag and her jacket up.

“No, no wait!” Harry reaches out to grab her wrist. She stills and continues to look mortified. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. I just, I think there might’ve been a misunderstanding?”

He’s never been chatted up by a girl before, even before he was out, so this is new territory. Hell, he was barely chatted up by Louis; the boy was so charming he fell head over heels for him pretty much at first sight, and the rest is history.

“Yeah, I noticed! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to... look, your girlfr-”

“Ellie, love I’m gay.”

Ellie stops with her arm mid-way in the left arm hole. “Oh…” she says quietly. If it’s possible, her cheeks turn an even more glowing shade of crimson before she slumps her shoulders and lets out an embarrassed laugh. “Oh, wow! Good one Ellie, hitting on a gay guy, stupid girl!”

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t… well I didn’t realise you were interested until just then with the foot.”

“I’m absolutely mortified!” Ellie cries dramatically, sitting back down in her chair, still with just one arm in her jacket. “I’m so, so sorry, you must think I’m a complete idiot!”

“I don’t at all. I’m very flattered, but also very taken.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe it, you just, well you don’t give off a gay vibe!”

Harry isn’t sure how to take that comment, so he just smiles awkwardly. “C’mon, like you said yourself, we’re both here bored and alone, it’ll be nice to have someone to chat with. And the food’ll be here soon.”

“That’s true,” Ellie says with a sigh. “I’m sorry again.”

Harry shakes his head dismissively, reassuring her over and over until she seems to have calmed down enough to eat her food. The chicken salad is good; not a patch on Louis’ Caesar salad but it’ll do. Ellie asks him about Louis, and it’s no coincidence that he’s the most illuminated he’s been all week, when telling someone about his Loubear.

 

*

 

_‘I got chatted up in the bar….. x’_

This perhaps wasn’t the most appropriate thing to send to Louis given his current state of distress and their temporary separation. He’s on the phone within a few seconds, clearly not appreciative of Harry’s giggle and jovial tone.

“Um, what was that text all about?” He asks sharply, foregoing ‘hello’ all together.

“Hello to you too!” Harry laughs, though this might not be the wisest move given Louis’ current mood. “I was just having a little joke.”

“So you weren’t chatted up?”

“No, I was.”

“Harry, what the hell?”

“I-” Harry begins to no avail.

“Harry, why are you telling me this, I don’t want to know!” Louis interrupts, practically wailing.

“Lou, can I just get a word in?”

“What?” Louis mutters back after a beat. He sounds angry.

“It was a girl.” Harry says simply, and Louis doesn’t speak. Not for a good few moments. “Loubear?”

“A girl?” Louis says finally. His voice is now small and childlike.

Harry is surprised not to be scolded for using the cheesy nickname as he normally would be. “Yeah!” He says softly and lightly, trying to regain a bit of balance. “I thought you’d find it funny.”

“I guess it is kind of funny.” Louis says eventually, but for some reason Harry suddenly feels a bit sad. “Though not for her, I bet. She must’ve been embarrassed.”

“Yeah, she went redder than… well, a very red thing. I felt bad for her, almost kinda didn’t want to ruin it for her.”

“How very charming of you!” Louis says dryly.

“Well, y’know me,” Harry says, and they both share a stilted laugh before sitting in silence for a moment or two. “Look, tell me about your day? I miss you.”

Louis sighs. “I miss you too.” He tells a long story about his day; it sounds about as enthralling as Harry’s day. They both agree that the time would’ve been better spent together.

“Why couldn’t you just come home tonight?” Louis asks, again. He’s asked Harry this question in one form or another about five times already.

“I’ve told you, Lou, they’re doing the final bit of training and the handover tomorrow morning. I can’t leave til eleven.”

Louis harrumphs and they sit in a little bit more silence. “Look, I’m gonna go, I think Rude Tube is starting. I’ll see you really soon, okay? I miss you, I love you.” Harry says softly. 11pm is approaching and the TV is on mute; his hand propped up behind his head.

“I miss you, I love you.” Louis says back, and Harry ends the call before the suggestive lump in his throat can grow any bigger.

He can’t enjoy the TV. He fiddles relentlessly with the hem of his t-shirt. He’s too hot under the duvet, so he throws a leg out. During the first advert break he flicks through to see what else is on. He gets out of bed to go for a wee even though he doesn’t really need to. Nothing comes, obviously, so he puts himself away again and returns to the bed. He throws himself down dramatically with a sigh.

It’s almost 2am before he stops looking at his phone.

 

_**Thursday** _

 

He gets out of bed a lot easier on Thursday morning, knowing it’s his last day. The sun is shining already outside his window, and by quarter to nine he’s stepping out of the shower. The small washroom – it hardly deserves the title of 'bathroom' – is nothing more than a tiled cardboard box; a toilet, shower cubicle and micro-sink. The mirror is fogged up and absent-mindedly he draws a heart into the steam with his fingertip, scribing his own initials above it and 'LT' beneath. He snaps a picture and sets it as his lock screen.

He makes sure to say hello to Ellie when he sees her. Her hair is styled into a smarter version of the fishtail braid she had the evening before, and she goes out of her way to avoid his gaze after the initial hellos are shared. So there’s that. Women can be confusing; hence the reason why the only one Harry has ever tried to understand is his mum.

The computers of years gone by aren't required for their overview session, which is a relief, and things move a lot faster without having to wait for the machines to catch up. There’s a trestle table in the corner set up with assorted biscuits and pastries and tea, coffee and hot chocolate. His mood is lifted by a hot chocolate, two Jaffa cakes and a maple pecan slice. He makes a mental note that Louis would _love_ this, and settles back down around the large conference table with his treats.

“Right!” Derek starts with a hearty clap of his hands together. “Hopefully these last few days have been informative!”

Harry rolls his eyes discretely but also reminds himself that this is the final stretch now. Less than three hours and he’ll be on his way home.

“The new software upgrades will be rolling out over the next two to four weeks, you guys’ll no doubt be the go to guys in your respective teams, so now’s the time to ask any last minute questions!”

Harry prays that no one wants to ask any questions; it will only delay them. It reminds him of school. Fortunately, the three questions that are asked aren’t too involved and it’s actually only quarter past ten when they’re given their information packs and sent on their merry way.

Harry sits in his hotel room for twenty minutes motionless. His bag has been packed since the night before and he has made the bedspread up perfectly; Louis’ mantra of ‘that’s what they hire maids for’ ringing in his ears. His phone sits silent and still on the desk. He's been telling himself all week that he should learn to cope without Louis’ undivided attention for more than an hour or two at a time but he can’t help but feel put out that Louis hasn’t replied to him since this morning, when he’d sent Harry a cursory _‘morning sunshine, see you later on xx_ ’, to which he’d replied _‘can’t wait to see you, counting the minutes xxx’_.

The trudge to the train station is nowhere near as exciting as Harry had thought it’d be. It’s murky and overcast today; reflecting Harry’s mood quite well. Checking out of the hotel and getting to the station had been easy enough; his myriad of train tickets confusing him into only a minor hiccup along the way.

Once they pull out of the station and he’s officially on his way home he brightens a little; as does the weather, coincidentally. The sun through the glass warms his skin and he feels dangerously close to sleep as the train picks up pace and clatters along the track with a rhythmic chug.

Arriving back at the familiar station, he lugs himself and his backpack past the WH Smith cubicle and the pop up Costa coffee, towards the turnstiles and out.

The sun beats down, baking the concrete and reflecting blindingly off the cars. He begins to head over to the bus stop, begrudging Louis for having use of their car today. He hasn’t been a ‘bus wanker’ for over four years now. His scuffed tan boots scrape the ground as he crosses the car park and walks pigeon-toed along the edge of the path round to where the bus stops and taxi ranks are.

A small, familiar voice almost causes him to slip right off the curb. “Hello handsome.”

Looking up, Louis is sat on the low level brick wall running along the length of the car park spaces; his feet in Vans hover an inch or so off the ground. He grins broadly and all crinkly eyed as he vaults off the wall and dusts him bum off. He’s wearing dark grey (once upon a time black) skinny jeans and a white round neck with rolled sleeves and a faded splash of colour across the chest. He looks positively angelic compared to himself with his hair in a messy bun, mardy arse scowl and boots with diminishing toes.

However, his frown soon fades away when he’s in Louis’ arms. The older man raises himself onto his tiptoes and throws one arm around his shoulder and the other around his back, clutching him tightly, fiercely protective. Louis mumbles, muffled, into his shoulder, “I missed you so much.”

They stand on the path woven together like a two-strand plait, swaying gently from side to side. After a moment, Louis lets himself down from his tiptoes back to flat on his feet and Harry curves himself down lower to accommodate the change.

“I missed you too, babe.” Harry says after they separate. Louis keeps a hand on Harry’s waist, one finger slotted through a belt loop. “I didn’t think you were gonna be here? After all that whinging.”

“I _don’t_ whinge,” Louis lies. “I booked the day off, a last minute thing. They were okay with it, though.”

“I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you.” Harry reiterates.

“I missed you too. Here, I thought I might have to bring my armour to fight off one of your new found admirers!”

Harry rolls his eyes but smiles anyway. He chooses to ignore that comment. “Where’s the car?”

“Down one of the one hour free parking streets.”

“C’mon, let’s get home.” Harry says, picking up his rucksack he’d thrown to the ground earlier. “We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I read through this twice and any mistakes are my own!
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know if you liked it! Thank you xo
> 
> Tumblr: mummyamy10


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